The Lightning Strike
by riespark
Summary: Felix has been sharp-tongued and distant lately. He doesn't really connect in conversation, gives short answers where he can, and looks past people rather than at them. They've all noticed it. It's only after Felix has snapped at enough people to make them leave him alone on the deck of the ship that they finally decide to do something about it.


Please note: This contains Dom/sub dynamics, specifically femdom, because...have you SEEN Sheba? It also contains electrostimulation. So if any of that squicks you, I would suggest not reading this! Title lifted from "The Lighting Strike (What If This Storm Ends)" by Snow Patrol.

* * *

Felix has been sharp-tongued and distant lately. He doesn't really connect in conversation, gives short answers where he can, and looks past people rather than _at_ them. They've all noticed it. It's only after Felix has snapped at enough people to make them leave him alone on the deck of the ship that they finally decide to do something about it.

"I don't know how you think we're going to help," Garet says, shaking his head. "It's been, like, a week since he started acting like this and no one even knows what caused it because he won't say."

"Look, he's my brother, okay? I really think that if we just keep—"

"I'm sorry, Jenna," Isaac interrupts, "but I don't think he'll listen. Whatever this issue is, he obviously thinks he'd be better off dealing with it on his own. He's stubborn."

"It runs in the family," Piers says, rolling his eyes.

Sheba, who had been sitting quietly off to the side, finally stands up and says, "I can do it."

All conversation stops as everyone turns to look at her. Mia's the first to speak up. "You can do…what, exactly?"

"I can make him be himself again."

"How?" Jenna asks. She looks a little bit worried about the response, and Sheba has to struggle to keep her face straight. She knows Jenna's aware of her not-quite-secret relationship with Felix, but she'd made it clear earlier on that Sheba was to avoid giving too many details, if possible. (Sheba gets it—if _she_ had an older brother, she wouldn't want to know all the details of his romantic life, either. And besides, she has Mia for all the…tricky questions.)

"Just give me some time alone with him," Sheba says, keeping her tone intentionally cryptic. Ivan reaches for her hand and she lets him take it, and allows his entrance into her mind a moment later as well.

 _What exactly are you planning, Sheba?_

 _Nothing, really._ She lets him see her ideas, and his eyes go wide with surprise.

 _You know, not much shocks me anymore, but...you got me._ He releases her hand, shaking his head and laughing quietly.

She grins. Jenna immediately looks suspicious, nervous, and relieved in one. "I know that look. How much time do you need, Sheba? We'll figure something out."

"Four hours, minimum."

"That's doable."

Isaac looks rapidly back and forth between the two of them, and then his eyes settle on Ivan. "What's going on?"

"I'll tell you later," Ivan says, waving him off. Sheba's not worried, though: Ivan knows to cover for her.

Even Sheba's not sure how Jenna manages it, but somehow the rest of the group, even Kraden, is wrangled off the ship the following evening when they hit land. She's left alone on the deck with Felix none the wiser. He watches the figures of the others walking away towards town, and then looks back at her.

"You're not going with them?"

"No, we decided I'm staying."

"We? Whose idea was this?"

"It was all of ours," she says. "You've been acting really weird lately, and we all wanted to make you come back to your senses."

"So my sister harassed you into harassing me," he says, and she rolls her eyes.

"Felix, you know that's not it. We're worried about you. You've been irritable, you haven't slept—can you even tell me when the last time you slept was?"

"There's no time for sleep," Felix says, "we have to get to Prox."

"You know this ship is capable of being steered by people other than you," she says sternly. "You don't have to do everything yourself. There are nine of us on this ship now, there's no reason—"

"I have a responsibility," he cuts in again. "Not just for the nine of us, but also for my parents and Isaac's father. I have to keep twelve people alive, Sheba!"

" _That's_ what you're so freaked out about? You know that responsibility isn't yours alone. We all took that on when we joined up with this quest, for our own reasons."

"Oh, right, I forgot about your reasons. You, Jenna, and Kraden were hostages, Piers wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for an accident of nature, Isaac and Garet hated me up until—"

" _Enough_ ," Sheba says, and her voice isn't loud but it's firm, and it makes Felix visibly pause. She spins on her heel and walks toward the inside of the ship, tossing a curt "Come with me" over her shoulder. Felix stares after her, unmoving, for almost too long, but when she reaches the door and pulls it open she hears him start to follow.

She pauses just inside, arms crossed, and when he comes through the door she says, "Lock it," and then starts to walk away again. He doesn't hesitate this time, just does as he's told and walks behind her down the halls of the ship and into...

"This is my room, Sheba."

"I know. Shut the door behind you."

He steps inside and does so, then turns to face her with obvious trepidation. "What's going on?"

"Those responsibilities we talked about," she says, and he raises an eyebrow. "They're mine. I'm taking them away from you as of right now. You have no responsibilities except to follow the directions I give you. Okay?"

He nods haltingly, still looking sort of confused, and she smiles.

"Good. If you ever don't want to do something that I ask, just say so and we'll stop."

"Does this have something to do with sex?" he asks, and she shrugs.

"I know you've been thinking about this kind of thing lately. I have too. So it can be, if you want."

"Oh, I do, but what is this? Is this supposed to help me unwind?"

She smirks. "Well, I just tried to talk you out of your funk, and that didn't work. This is plan B."

His first reaction is to laugh, but then his brows knit nervously and he glances back at the door. "What about—"

"We have plenty of time. Stop worrying, remember what I said about responsibilities?" He nods, but she gestures at him and says, "Tell me what I said."

"They're yours."

"And your sole responsibility right now is what?"

He meets her eyes. "To follow your orders."

"Good boy."

His reaction to the praise is immediate; he closes his eyes and mumbles "Sweet Venus above." She can't quite stop herself from smiling. They'd sort of figured out that Felix liked being told what to do, but Sheba was pretty sure neither of them had counted on it working _this_ well.

When he opens his eyes again, they immediately fix on her. The tenseness leaves his shoulders, and his hands unclench from the fists they'd been in. She knows it's probably all conscious relaxation techniques, he's not magically going to loosen up all at once, but she's proud of him nonetheless. "Tell me what to do," he says, and the lightest blush colors his face.

"Undress me," she says. "I'll tell you when to stop."

He nods, and crosses the short distance to stand directly in front of her, pulling his gloves off and tossing them carelessly behind him. The first thing he removes from her is the feathery pin over her left breast, and he's so careful with it (perhaps afraid of jabbing her accidentally) that she doesn't even feel his hands touch her.

Next are her cape and sash, the beads on the former gently clicking together as he lays it aside. Her arm bracers follow, and it takes him a second to figure out that they're held in place with several buckles on the underside. As he pulls each one off he kisses along her forearm up to the inside of her elbow.

"What are you doing?" she asks softly, as his lips ghost against her wrist.

"They were right, you know," he says. "You're a goddess. I'm worshipping."

She gasps, a little delighted sound, and his eyes, when they meet hers again, are soft and reverent. He traces his hands along the sides of her tunic to the bottom hem, and pulls it over her head. Once he's set it off to the side with the rest he sinks to the floor to remove her boots. Just like her bracers, he removes them one at a time, pressing his lips at random to the newly exposed skin. She has to balance herself on his shoulder, laughing a little, as he kisses the outside of her knee.

Her shorts are next, leaving her only in an undershirt and panties. He rises up to his feet again and before he even starts to reach for the hem of her shirt, she stops him with a hand on his chest. "That's enough for now."

He nods wordlessly and steps back, and she feels his eyes on her as she turns and walks toward his bed. She settles down on top of the dark green blanket, crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap.

"How are you feeling?" she asks, even though she can easily identify the bulge in his pants for what it is. It thrills her a little to know that the simple act of undressing her had affected him that way.

"Good," he says, and she nods, then reaches out across the room with her mind. His hands fly to his temples as he senses her slipping inside. "How—?"

"I've been practicing," she says. "And this way, you can't hide anything from me." He inhales sharply, and she feels the arousal throb through him. She hums in approval, and then continues: "You're next."

"Next?" he repeats.

"Strip. From the waist up."

 _Easy enough_ , he thinks, and he does as she asks. His cloak is first, blue fabric pooling on the floor at his feet. His belt and sword follow, and he takes special care to set the weapon flat on the ground close to the wall. _You know me, I'd trip over it later._

She laughs. While he had his moments of grace, he still seemed sometimes like he was caught off guard by his own body.

His vest comes off next, he barely fumbles with the laces before slipping it off his shoulders, then pulls his long-sleeved tunic over his head. She watches appreciatively as his hard abs become visible bit by bit, and follows the line of his body up and along his biceps.

Dropping his shirt on the floor, he glances back up at her and thinks, _What next?_

"Your knife, too. And your boots and legwarmers."

He nods, and his voice is soft, maybe a little embarrassed, when he says, "I think I liked it better when you had to touch me to read my mind." A few quick memories flash through his head: Her hand fisting in the back of his shirt, her fingers lacing with his, a carefully-timed brush of shoulders.

"It's a little tiring to keep up for a prolonged period of time," she says obligingly. "I don't think I'll do it often. But it _is_ convenient for things like this."

"Just promise me you'll stop if you start to get a headache? I don't want you passing out."

"Felix, remind me again, what did I say about your responsibilities?" She tries to sound imposing, but he smiles with a lightness that catches her a little by surprise. His thought that follows surprises her even more—and him too, she thinks, since he tries to speak aloud over it.

 _You're so good to me. I love you so much._ "Right, right, sorry. All yours."

He has to bend down to unwrap the heavy cloth binding his knife holster to his thigh, and she's sort of glad because it takes his focus away from her. His shoulders tense up as he works at his clothing and she studies the muscles flexing under his skin, composing herself and getting back into her role. Once he's removed everything she requested and pushed it behind him, he straightens up, and she just lets him stand there for a moment while she thinks. Her original plan had been to tease him a little from her spot on the bed, but she decides she'd rather touch him now. She uncrosses her legs and stands from the bed, making a half-circle gesture with her finger.

"Turn around…and don't move."

She knows that the Proxians, during Felix's training as a child, had drilled into him the importance of never letting anyone get behind him. Here, though, he turns with no hesitation and doesn't flinch when she places her hand (which is cold, her hands are always cold) on the back of his neck. His ponytail is long enough that it reaches the middle of his back, and she follows it, tracing a single finger slowly down his spine.

His breath hitches a little at her touch, and she thinks it's the prettiest sound she's ever heard. That is, until a few seconds later when her hand has reached the small of his back and she lets a spark snap against his bare skin. He moans, voice thick, dropping his head back as pleasure courses through his mind in waves. Inside she's thrilled to be getting this reaction from him, but all she says aloud is, "You're doing so well, Felix."

Playfully, on a whim, she slides her hand around to his front and, pressing her chest against his back, palms his cock through his pants. He's rock-hard, and even a light touch through the heavy fabric forces a strangled little gasp from his throat. This close, she can feel his legs shaking under him. She kisses his back, up and along the line of one of his shoulder blades as far as she can reach. His hands are balled into fists again at his sides, and she runs her free hand along his arm, coaxing him to relax and intertwining her fingers with his. Leading him towards his own bed, she settles on it the same way she had been before, but this time leans forward and starts to unlace his trousers.

 _Whoa, hold on,_ he thinks, and she immediately pulls back.

"What's wrong?"

"I kind of wanted—never mind." The image of him with his head between her legs flashes through his mind fast enough that he can't quite stop it, and she looks up at him with interest as he winces self-consciously.

"Would doing that make you happy?" she asks.

" _Yes_ ," he says fervently, not hesitating despite his embarrassment. "Please, I'd like to."

She had sort of wanted to try giving him a blowjob, but she can't deny an offer like that. "On one condition." He nods, and she continues: "Just your mouth. No hands."

He bites his lip, and for a split second Sheba feels him doubting his skills. But he nods anyway, and falls to his knees in front of her. With an exasperated sigh at his carelessness, she grabs a pillow from the bed and drops it on the floor next to him. "Use this."

"Thank you," he says, and kneels on it as she takes the other pillow and pulls it underneath her shoulders, so she can sit up and watch. He starts to reach for the lace ties of her underwear, but then abruptly stops without her having to remind him of the rule.

"Very good," she says softly, and he blushes before leaning forward to carefully take one side of her panties between his teeth. He manages to untie one of the little bows, and even just the feeling of his lips and nose brushing lightly against her thigh as he does it causes little tingles to race up and down her spine. He gets her underwear down to her knees and she sits up to kick them to the floor from there. It's then that she notices he's actually restrained himself in a way, right hand holding his left wrist behind his back, and she feels that quiet pride swell in her chest again.

Sheba places her legs over his broad shoulders, and he ducks his head between her thighs. For a second she just feels his breathing, before he flicks his tongue out in a sweeping movement across her labia. She gasps, and the next stroke of his tongue hits her clitoris in a way she's pretty sure is accidental. She jerks upward, unconsciously trying to follow his mouth.

He boldly meets her eyes, and it's obvious he knows exactly what he's doing when his next movement completely, _intentionally_ , avoids her clit. He doesn't even bother to conceal his amusement when she grits her teeth and exhales slowly through her nose. _Out of curiosity, are you going to punish me if I don't make you come?_

"I'm considering it," she says, and she's sure the tightness of her voice gives her away. He chuckles, kisses the inside of her thigh, then looks away to focus on the task in front of him. His tongue is feather-light as it grazes over her clitoris again, but this time he obligingly repeats the action when she sighs.

 _I want to touch you so bad right now_ , he thinks, and she feels how much he really does want that, how much it's driving him insane to keep his hands behind his back. His imagination carries the rest of the sentiment behind the thought—his hands everywhere on her body, her breasts, her back, her thighs—and she shivers, pushing her foot against his back to hold him closer.

"Not yet," she says, "but keep that up and I may reward you."

He finds a rhythm flicking his tongue against her clit, punctuating it with an occasional sweep as deep inside her as he can get. She starts to feel fuzzy at the tips of her fingers and toes, and the sensation slowly builds to where she can barely stand it. It's only when her hands leave the blankets to fist in his hair that he actually starts to suck on her clitoris. The sound she makes as her fingers dig into his scalp can only be considered a squeak, and she half-hears, half-feels him laugh against her.

Her orgasm, when it finally hits her, washes over her like a gentle hurricane—starting low in her stomach and spreading a pulsing, almost electric feeling through her limbs. It occurs to her, deep in some still-cognizant part of her brain, that she's feeling his pleasure as well, and that makes it all the better. She arches her back, hips jerking of their own accord, completely beyond words. He works her through it with light, easy strokes of his tongue, his mind a constant stream of praise.

 _I love you so much. You're so beautiful. I can't believe how lucky I am to get to see you like this._

After the last of the waves have faded away and his mouth on her is too much, she lightly tugs on his hair to get him up. He stands obediently, sliding his arms under her to lift her slightly and get her into a more comfortable position in his bed. It's only after he's pulled the sheets up around her waist that she feels him hesitate, unsure.

"Hold me," is all she says, and he complies, sliding into bed next to her and cuddling her close. She leaves his mind then, finally, and he lets out a little whimper in protest. "I'm still here, Felix."

"It feels…empty, I guess. Without you in my head." He hugs her tighter, as though he's trying to make up for the loss of her inside of him, then kisses her all over—her forehead, the bridge of her nose, her eyelids, her lips. She lets herself relax into it, and he holds her just like that for a few minutes before he finally breaks the silence. "Did I do okay?"

"You were great," she affirms, and then pushes him away a little bit. "But you haven't come yet."

"I kind of didn't think I was allowed," he says, but even as he speaks his hand is moving southward to where his erection is still straining against his pants.

"Well, if you weren't before, you are now. Want help?"

"No, I can take care of it," he says, moving to lay flat on his back, and as he unlaces his pants and pushes them slightly down his hips she wishes she'd stayed inside his head so she could know if he was being honest. His eyes go soft and unfocused as he begins to stroke himself, soon closing his eyes as he loses himself to the motion.

It's not long before he's noticeably breathing harder, hand moving more quickly over his length. He curses under his breath, and there's an edge of desperation to his voice that has her laying her hand on his bicep. Before she can even ask what she can do, he speaks up.

"Shock me," he says through gritted teeth, and she's certain she misheard him. Her small hesitation is enough to make him repeat himself: "With your Psynergy, shock me. _Please_."

He meets her eyes, and she does it, a small spark against his upper arm. But even though his body jerks and he groans it's clearly not enough. "Again, harder, I need—oh _fuck_!" The second jolt makes his eyes slam shut and his hips lift off the mattress, and the hand that's not wrapped around his cock is a white-knuckled fist in the sheets between them. He's soundless as he comes, and he drops back to the bed gasping for breath.

It's another few moments before Sheba herself recovers her speech. "I'm gonna get up for a second."

Still trying to catch his breath, he nods, and she stands and slips out without even bothering to put her discarded underwear back on. She heads to the bathroom and grabs two washcloths, using one to clean herself and dampening the other one in the sink. She's halfway back down the hall again before she realizes what she forgot, and goes back to get two glasses of water—one that she drinks as she walks, and one for him.

When she returns, Felix is still just lying there with his head tilted to the side, watching the door. He pushes himself up on to his elbows to take the glass she offers, draining it in seconds, then lets her clean him off.

"Thanks," he says, and even after the water he still sounds husky. "And I feel fine, before you ask."

"Well, good," she says with a small laugh, then lays down next to him, and insinuates herself back into his arms again. He rolls on to his side to spoon her, chin resting on the top of her head. "Promise you'll tell me if you ever need to do this again, Felix. I worry about you."

"I will. I love you." His voice is low, sleepy, and he nuzzles into her hair with a contented sigh.

"I love you too, Felix," she answers, and lies there with him as his breathing evens out and he finally, _finally_ succumbs to sleep. She might've dozed a bit too, the exhaustion of prolonged (partially long-distance) mind-reading and her own orgasm finally taking their toll on her, but she's not entirely sure.

By the time the rest of the group returns from their excursion, she's back up on deck by herself. Jenna asks, hesitantly, how it went. Sheba just grins and says, "It went well. He's sleeping." That seems to be enough of an answer for the rest of the group, and no one asks any more questions. She's sure they're all curious, but she's grateful for the fact that they don't push things.

The next morning when Felix comes upstairs, he looks more rested and alert than he has in a long time, and he touches her hand with a soft smile and a murmured "Thank you." She smiles back, and answers, "Anytime."


End file.
